


my face is red from reading your red lips

by aphrodite_mine



Category: The Uninvited
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contains spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my face is red from reading your red lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [majesdane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/gifts).



Your heart jumps when you finally see her, finally feel her arms around you again. It’s been far too long, you say, and she agrees. “I really hate you for leaving me with them,” Alex tells you, but she doesn’t mean it. She holds your hand, and tucks your wet hair back out of your face while you tread water. You know she doesn’t mean it, but you wouldn’t blame her if she did.

–

Sometimes you can hardly remember dragging the knife across your wrists, the sensation of thick blood on your the only part you recognize, the only part that seeps into your dreams. Alex doesn’t like to talk about it, about how she found you, your head lolling back against the frozen tub. She thought you were dead, she tells you, whispers in your ear in the semi-darkness of those hours just before dawn. How she thought  _I can’t take it_ , not after the fire, not after the open door and the kiss she saw, that flash of blonde hair.

When she talks about it, whispers in the dark, she clings to you extra closely. She sneaks into your bed and pushes the covers down. You feel her skin on yours, your legs brushing against each other, just barely. She reaches around you, tucking you against her, pressing on your scars with her thumbs.

“You’re an idiot if you think I didn’t miss you every day,” she says, your blood pumping under her touch.

–

It seems like wherever you go, her eyes are on you. You haven’t found a way, yet, to wash the feeling off. She’s bright and cheery and  _perky_ , and just about everything you and Alex can never quite achieve, not anymore.

You hate her.

“I love your dad, you know,” she says, brushing her fingers down your cheek. “And he loves me.”

Alex leaves the room. She never did have the patience for bullshit.

“You’re a vampire,” you say, and you’re scared — just a little — of how raw your voice sounds. She’s scared too. You can see it in the slight flinch when you take a step closer. Still, her facade is impeccable. You wonder what it would take.

–

She tries, sometimes, to fix you. To keep you tidy and sweet. It’s worse, then, the way your hatred bubbles up, fills your throat until you gag on it. You just want to be with Alex, but Rachel paints this pretty picture of bonding time, and that doesn’t seem to involve your sister, just the cold brush of lipstick across your mouth and pearls around your neck.

“You’re actually very pretty, you know,” she says, her voice cool like the pearls at your throat.

“Everyone says I look like Alex,” you fire back, able to justify her remarks that way, because your sister  _is_  very pretty. Beautiful even. And she makes you feel the same.

Rachel’s face in the mirror is something predatory. Her lips thin, her fingers tightening at your shoulders. “You look like yourself,” she insists, and you don’t get it, not at all, until her index finger settles on your lips and her face changes. “That’s not a good color for you. Too dark, maybe.” She tries to recover, shuffling through her makeup, but you know. You’ve seen her.

–

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Alex bites out, shoving you against the closed door of her room. “First dad, and now you? Do you know how  _fucking_  sick that is?”

You like her angry, you always have. Alex becomes something so much greater than herself when she’s filled with passion, with feeling. Your throat catches, and you arch a little off the door. “You think it’s crazy to be attracted to me?”

And Alex is still mad, livid, shaking. “Fuck–. Anna.” She kisses you then, for the first time since you got home, and it feels like you are finally, finally here. She undoes your shorts, moves her fingers inside. “She can’t have you, all right? You’re the one–” She breaks off, her voice catching. “You’re the one thing I have left.”

You don’t understand, not even later, why her voice sounds like yours. Why you open your eyes, alone, your panties soaked. Why your wrists burn. Why your mouth is smeared with red.


End file.
